Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards

[Arahim]

---

From the night dappled corner of their room, a soft, insistent cooing shook Arahim from the thin veil of half-sleep which hung upon him uneasily.

"Ssssh...I hear you very well my little man, no need for all that," he whispered as leaned over the crib and smoothed the fine red-brown hair which crowned his infant son's head, "What is it now?"

With a valorous effort, the boy child his mother had named Christopher, raised his head, balanced himself upon chubby fists and gurgled his triumph...only to have gravity and the betrayal of new muscles (unused to such strain) flop him back upon his belly, face first.

Chuckling, despite himself, Arahim lifted his child into his arms, and wrapped him loosely in a small blanket.

"Let's go welcome the new day."

Leaving Sylvan to hoard whatever sleep she was able to, they left their garishly painted wagon and stepped out into the world. Christopher, content in the crook of his father's arms and Arahim in his bare feet.

Passing several wagons, silent in slumber, Arahim pressed his forefinger into his son's tiny hand which curled tightly around it in response. Bouncing him slightly as he walked, he sang, while Christopher shook his finger happily, and flapped his other arm for no other reason than to show that he could.

Stopping in a small copse, where the surrounding mountains would not obstruct their view of a new morning's sunrise, Arahim settled down in the grass, and put his back to a tree. Leaning back, he cradled his squirmy little bundle so as to set him in prime position to watch the first splashes of color when Day would touch Night, and chase it away.

Christopher, not one to simply be arranged, grabbed two handfuls of his father's hair and, inexorably, pulled it towards his gaping mouth.

"Ow! You little booger!" Arahim laughed, as he carefully disentangled himself.

Giggling at his little game, the child kicked his feet delightedly, and reached out again. Thwarting his designs, Arahim gave him back his forefinger which was eagerly accepted, then slobbered upon.

Holding him closely, Arahim rocked slowly and sang, lost in the many thoughts of the past few weeks' events. Christopher's bright green eyes lingered upon him with an intensity only found in the gaze of a child who does not yet know pain or prejudice, cooing now and then, as if adding to the song, or simply sensing his father's mood.

"...Tell me now...
What is seen from my hand?
I know what is true
Nothing's really new

Why don't we leave this old town?
A new world waits to be seen
Give me a reason to stay
I'm not afraid to live...*"

Gauzy reds and oranges paint the sky, trumpetting the Dawn.

The song ends, and another day begins.


*( As an ooc note, those scraps of lyrics are from a Voivod song "Fix my Heart" written by Denis Belanger. How Arahim knows a Voivod song is beyond me.)